Package Deal
by boswifedeb
Summary: ATF agent Mitchell Gunterson asks Matt for help with a series of deadly package deliveries. Meanwhile, CJ begins making plans for her new ranch.
1. Chapter 1

"**Package Deal"**

"**Greed is not a financial issue. It's a heart issue."**

**Andy Stanley**

**CHAPTER 1**

The G-550 had made its final approach, gliding smoothly onto the runway before taxiing to a stop in front of the hangar where CJ Parsons-Houston stood along with her daughter Catey Rose. The now one year old had started chanting "Daddy-Daddy!" the minute that her mom had pointed out the plane to her and was wiggling so much it was hard to hold onto her.

"Catey, want to sit on my shoulders so you can see him better?" Fifteen year old Tomás Sergio Houston took his sister from his adopted mother, smiling at the thank you that the lawyer mouthed at him. She was almost twenty three weeks along in the pregnancy now, the twin boys growing inside her body moving more each day. A smile covered her face as the door was opened and Matt tossed his bag onto his left shoulder, a package tied with yellow ribbon in his right hand and a huge smile on his face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Right behind him was LAPD Lt. Michael Hoyt whose own face lit up as his family pulled to a stop outside the hangar, seventeen year old Kathy emerging from the driver's side as her mother Anne stepped out from the passenger side.

"Daddy!" Catey was reaching for Matt who laughed as he set his bag down.

"Lady Bug – have you been good while I was gone?" He took the little girl in his left arm receiving an almost choking hug as she kissed him.

"Been good." The little face was a mirror image of her father's with the exception of her mother's hazel eyes.

"Good." He reached for his son and the two hugged. "Take her back for a second, bud – I've gotta get me a kiss." Handing the little girl back to Tomás he pulled CJ to him, their lips meeting in the kiss that he had been anticipating for a week.

Michael, after greeting his own family gave them a wink and with an arm around each of his ladies, approached the Houstons and received a hug and kiss from Catey who called him "Unka Mike". He shook hands with Tomás before thumping Matt on the back of the head. "Enough already! Sheesh!" The PI pulled away from CJ only to be pulled back down where the kiss resumed and he shrugged his shoulders, obviously happy.

CJ finally ended the kiss. "_Now_ I'm done. Don't interrupt again, Michael." She gave the cop a big smile.

"He has corrupted you for sure." Hoyt and the others laughed.

"Lil Mama, I want you to have a seat here. Got a little present for you." His eyes were sparkling as she sat down and took the box from him. "I've waited a long time for this."

CJ untied the ribbon and lifted the lid, setting both aside before pulling back the edges of the tissue paper. "It isn't jewelry…" Removing an envelope she opened it. "Deed?" Unfolding the legal document she began reading and the shock on her face gave way to a smile and tears as she looked up at Matt. "This is why you really went to Houston."

"Well…part of it. Somebody's gotta get this guy away from work more often." He motioned to Hoyt and then leaned over as CJ wrapped her arms around his neck pulling him down into a hug.

"Thank you, baby." She was laughing and crying.

"What in the world is it?" Kathy took the papers and looked at it. "Another ranch?"

"It's not just any ranch." Michael watched as the lawyer wiped away the tears.

"It's Uncle Errol's old ranch." CJ blew her nose.

"Wow! So you're going to make the Houston Ranch even bigger."

"Not necessarily." Houston wiped away a couple more tears from CJ's face. "I've got a feeling that the new owner may want something else running on it – horses maybe?" He smiled as she nodded.

"That's what I always dreamed of doing." CJ gave a laugh. "Wow! I wasn't expecting that. It's…" A loud explosion rocked the ground.

"It's over at the freight terminal." Hoyt reached into his bag for his pistol as Matt bundled his family into the SUV. "Y'all go on home. Love you." The PI gave CJ a quick kiss and removed his holster, two vests, and badge from his gear bag, tossing it inside before following Hoyt. The sound of the LAX fire units responding could now be heard as the two pounded across the pavement and another explosion sent a ball of fire and debris up into the sky. As he pulled up even with the lieutenant Matt tossed him one of the vests and they put them on as they continued. Another explosion rocked the area. When they drew nearer they could see two XPRS delivery trucks in flames as the fire crews began flooding them with Monnex, quickly bringing it under control.

Airport police had responded to the scene as well and gave the two friends strange looks. "Who in the hell? Houston – is that you?" One of the officers approached the pair.

"Hey Pritchard."

"And Lieutenant Hoyt, right?" They shook as the airport cop holstered his weapon. "Wasn't expecting anybody to come in from that direction."

"I just landed." Matt pointed over his shoulder. "Boy that Monnex is sure putting it out."

"Huh?" Pritchard looked at him like he had lost his mind.

"Potassium allophonate." One of the fire engineers overheard him and grinned. "I'm working with the Fire Marshal now – sorta. Got a couple more classes to finish."

Another siren stopped abruptly and another friendly face appeared although looking surprised to see the PI and lieutenant. "Houston, what in the heck are you doing here?"

"At the moment I'm irritating Pritchard." He gave a laugh, shaking the hand of ATF Agent Mitchell Gunterson.

"Michael…" The agent shook the cop's hand. "Guess I better get to work and try to figure out what happened here. Talk to you later."

Turning back the way they had come, the pair started across the pavement. "We didn't think this through…" Michael took off the vest. "What are we going to do for a ride?"

"I doubt if they've gone too far." Houston laughed and both men pulled out their phones and called their wives. "Mine's on the way back."

"Mine, too; think she missed me?"

"Nah."

Later that evening Matt was down at the barn grooming Cricket. "Girl, you're really getting big." He rubbed his hand down the horse's side; she was due to foal in about eight weeks.

"What is it with you and pregnant females?" Mitchell's voice announced his arrival.

Standing up and looking over the top of the horse the PI grinned as he spotted the ATF agent being escorted down by Tilly, the half Blue Heeler/half Husky who Matt described as one of the best security devices ever made. "What can I say? Some of us just have a way with the ladies." Cricket's mate Jasper nickered.

"Did that horse just laugh?"

"It's entirely possible; he has a good sense of humor." He began working on the mare's feet. "I see you've met Tilly."

"Uh huh, Michael was right – Catey Rose has one hell of a bodyguard. Scared the crap outta me."

"Jasper…" The stallion's ears flicked forward as he listened to the cowboy. "…I apologize for blaming you for that smell." Both horses nickered.

"You three are real comedians."

"We try. So did you come for the routine or did you have something on your mind?" Moving around the front of the horse he received a nuzzle and kiss, stopping to give her a jaw scratch before lifting her right front hoof and cleaning it.

"Those explosions this afternoon…" The agent approached Jasper and began patting on him as Matt cut his eyes over, grinning. A few months earlier the stallion would only let Houston touch him. After a lot of training he was one of the best the cowboy had ever seen. "We've been trying to keep things quiet – didn't want to set off a panic."

"But they weren't the first. There have been a couple of others lately – St. Louis and El Paso." Standing up with a grimace on his face, Houston popped his back, gave a sigh of relief and went toward the last hoof.

"Yep."

"Lemme guess here…" He continued picking the mud out of the hoof. "Today the first explosion was the only bomb; the flames set off the second and third truck: they were purely coincidental."

"That's how it looks."

"Any idea what caused the first one?" Picking up a curry comb he started at the top of Cricket's neck and moved down toward her shoulders, rubbing in circular motions and loosening up the dirt.

"Just like St. Louis and El Paso - zit meds."

"Benzoyl peroxide."

"Don MacLemore said you were good."

"Been talking to him, huh?" The PI grinned. MacLemore was the Fire Marshal. With a brush, he began getting rid of the loose dirt.

Mitchell leaned forward looking at the mare. "She looks like she's going to sleep."

"Spa treatment. She gets a massage after she's clean." He saw the flicker of indecision on his friend's face. "It's a joke, city boy."

"I knew that."

"So you've got zit cream bombs going off."

"Yep." He watched as Matt continued the curry combing and brushing.

"Got any idea where the packages originated?"

"The one in El Paso came from Kansas City – at least we think it did."

"And St. Louis?"

"The same. We've got folks on the ground there working it from that end."

"Guess it's too early to know for sure about the one today, huh?"

"We may not be able to find out…what happened today was worse than the other two. They just damaged a couple of packages that were still on the trucks while they were out on their routes. The one today…well, you saw it."

"Uh huh…hope your Aunt Gracie isn't in too big of a hurry for that girdle she ordered." The look of pure mischief on his face set off the agent who was leaning on the fence for support. "Oh God…you're not right."

"Just now figuring that out are ya?" He walked over to the agent. "Hold this for me." Handing over his phone he went back toward the barn and pulled out the hose. "Might want to step back a few feet."

"Does she get upset?"

"Nope…" Matt hosed the mare down and then put the hose on the ground and winked at Gunterson, his back turned to the horse who picked it up in her teeth and began dousing the cowboy.

"You gotta be kiddin' me."

"Nope…she does it every time." Turning back around he took the hose back and put his forehead on Cricket's, giving her a jaw scratch. "That's my baby girl there." She reached up and kissed him again watching as he went back to the barn to put the hose away and came back with a towel to dry her off. "So – back to the zit bombs."

"What do you think about them?"

"If memory serves it's only happened to XPRS."

"That's right."

"Unhappy employee or former employee? Are they having any labor relations problems? An unhappy customer?"

"We've been checking all those angles. They're investigating two possibles but neither one really sounds like they would have the smarts."

"Doesn't take much smarts these days – just an internet connection." Houston finished drying the horse, put the towel on the fence to dry and walked toward the pasture gate, Cricket following along behind him. "Give Mitchell a kiss." She stopped and took a swipe at his cheek as he stood there in surprise. "Alright, y'all behave down here tonight." He gave the horses gathered along the fence a round of pats and then turned back toward the house taking the phone from the agent who was wiping his face with his sleeve. "Don't let her see you do that – she'll get offended." From the pasture the mare raised her head and let out a whinny as she looked at Gunterson. The PI chuckled as he started up the hill.

"I don't believe…" Gunterson looked back over his shoulder as she did it again. "Sorry…"

Matt started laughing again. "So what do you want me to do? Run a check on every pizza-faced kid in Kansas City?"

"No, just think about who it might be…this is just getting worse." His tone was completely serious.

"Alright. Let's go get a beer and think a little bit."


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2**

"Mornin', Chris." Houston stepped off the elevator at the penthouse suite offices of Houston Investigations and stopped. "You okay?"

"Yeah…" The secretary didn't look it.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon…" He ushered her up the steps to the inner office as she began sniffling, trying to hold back tears. "Have a seat here." He went behind the bar and made a cup of peppermint tea for her, what CJ usually drank these days instead of coffee, and then hit the coffee pot for himself. Sitting down next to her and handing over the cup he got a good look at her; although she had tried to cover it he could see that she had been crying. "So what's going on?" She shook her head. "You know I'll find out anyway." The last was said with a hint of humor in it and she looked up at the face of the man that she had worked for since her first week in Los Angeles. "What'd he do?"

She shook her head and gave a small smile. "It isn't all him." The "him" they were talking about was Chris' husband, Murray Chase, Matt's former accountant and now CEO of Houston Industries.

"She's awake this morning." The PI smiled as he reached over and gently placed his hand on her belly where the baby girl that she and Murray were expecting was kicking. "You know…that's something I never get tired of…kinda makes you feel a little better about life in general."

"I'm glad you don't get tired of it." She gave a laugh and rubbed her belly.

"So what happened?"

"We had a fight." Taking a sip of the tea she shook her head. "It was stupid of course – they always are." He waited. "He wants me to take off on maternity leave and I want to stay on a little longer."

"Hon, you can go on and take off; it'll be fine."

"Who's going to stay here and handle the phones?"

"I can forward them to the ranch."

"CJ doesn't need that – good Lord – she's expecting twins. I've only got the one."

"She's been getting bored." He took a sip. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it can get when that girl gets bored?" They both laughed.

"She's been around you too long."

Nodding he smiled. "But you know what? It'll never be long enough…no matter how many years we have together." He got a shocked expression on his face as the secretary burst into tears. "Easy now…"

"That just makes me feel so bad about fussing with Murray."

Matt took the tea from her and set it on the table, wrapping an arm around her. "Easy…tell me something: if you weren't tired from hauling this little lady around would you be upset like this?"

"I…I don't guess so…"

"So maybe he's right. Have you got your nursery all set up?"

"Not quite."

"So go ahead and take off. Work on the nursery, take your time and enjoy it."

"But I can't just…"

"Stop crying and hear me out, alright?" He handed her a tissue and after she honked her nose, handed the tea back. "Now…think about it. I'm not here near as much as I used to be – am I?"

"No."

"I haven't been taking outside cases either – I've been too busy with my classes, and Michael, and the fire deal…"

"And everybody else. How in the world do you do it?"

"It just happens. Now – I can forward the phone calls. Security is already screening people before they can make a trip up here these days. They can wave 'em off down in the lobby."

"I guess so…"

"You know what?" He leaned back and took a sip. "You could spend part of the time out at the ranch if you wanted – maybe you can keep CJ out of trouble."

"And she can keep me out of trouble – is that what you're thinking?" She started laughing.

"If the shoe fits…" He gave her a smile and she wrapped her arms around his neck giving him a hug as the elevator chimed and Murray walked up the steps.

"What in the hell are you doing, Houston?!" The CEO stalked down the stairs toward the pair.

"Huh?"

"Murray, I just gave him a hug for heaven's sake!"

"So you get mad at me and then I come up here to apologize and find you two in each other's arms?!"

"Murray, come on, bud…" Matt put the coffee cup down and stood up looking at the man as a fist caught him in the jaw.

"Murray!" Chris tried to get to her feet.

"Calm down. Have a seat." The PI hadn't even flinched when the punch hit and it seemed to have more of an effect on the sender.

"Houston…I'm so sorry…I can't believe…I'm sorry." The bald-headed man sank onto the couch.

"Hush. Chris, tell him our plan." The PI went to the bar and came back with a cup of coffee for the CEO as his wife explained what they had been talking about.

"I'm sorry." Murray took the cup.

"Would you hush already? So what do you think?"

"I think it's a good idea." He took his wife's hand. "Oh God, I've made a fool out of myself." Taking off his glasses he turned to Matt. "Go ahead."

"Huh?"

"You owe me a punch."

"Murray…" He burst into laughter. "I'm not gonna hit ya."

"You have every right."

"Thanks for the laugh. I don't think I've made a husband jealous in quite a while." He burst into laughter and eventually so did Murray. "Okay, now. Chris, if you want to go, go ahead."

"Well, I'm already here so I'll just stay today."

"Fine by me." Houston downed the last of the coffee and went back to the pot for a refill. Glancing back up he caught sight of the pair kissing, rolled his eyes and grabbed his laptop, going out on the patio overlooking the Los Angeles skyline and checked his mail, finding the files that Mitchell had promised to send him. According to the ATF lab, the first package bomb in St. Louis was made from a concentrate of benzoyl peroxide and the apparent trigger had been a wrist watch with an alarm set. A wire had been run from the watch to the container and the electrical charge had caused the explosion. An attached note from Mitchell said that he had talked to the lab tech who was reasonably sure that the El Paso bomb had been the same setup. Neither the sender nor recipient information on the packages was recovered.

The next file he opened contained information on one of their suspects: Andrew Pace Lane, age 27, male Caucasian, 5'8", and 180 pounds. He was a high school dropout who had applied for a job with XPRS and been denied because he didn't have the educational requirements. His response had been to trash the reception area of the local office, the result of which had been his arrest. After his parents posted his bond he returned to the scene that night and defaced the building with spray paint. The officer who took the report had included, "_Mr. Pace had incorrectly applied the paint as XRPS."_ That got a snicker out of the cowboy who now agreed with Mitchell: he didn't think Pace was smart enough.

After another swallow of coffee he opened the next file. Arlo Zebidiah Wilkinson, age 58, male Caucasian, 5'11", and 276 pounds. Mr. Wilkinson had filed several complaints against the company, several of the drivers, and pretty much anyone else involved with what he had described as a "poultry conspiracy". Although he had tried to file several lawsuits he hadn't been able to get legal representation – so far at least. He claimed that XPRS was directly responsible for the deaths of 117 chicks that he had ordered. Although he had been questioned by ATF, the agent didn't think that Mr. Wilkinson was capable of understanding how to find directions to make a bomb, much less being able to construct one without blowing himself up.

Mitchell had added a note:

_Now you see why I didn't seem too hopeful about the situation._

Closing the laptop the PI walked to the edge of the patio and leaned on the wall, looking around him at the buildings and traffic. Lane and Wilkinson didn't stand out as suspects to him. There were bound to be disgruntled employees. Hardly any company didn't have at least one or two, and they were often behind such stunts. Finishing off the cup of coffee he went back to the laptop and began looking into XPRS. Founded in 1988 by two brothers, Alan and Edwin Faltzer who had worked through high school and college as bicycle messengers in Boston, it had become a success within ten years and had expanded across the country. By 2000 they were in sixteen countries around the world and had never been hit with a union strike. Their policy of keeping workers happy seemed to be paying off for them. They were doing well on the stock exchange and had managed to ride out some of the latest economic downturns with hardly a hiccup.

A little more digging led him to find five lawsuits that had been filed against them since 1988, only one of which had been successful. Two were filed by former employees, and he delved into them. The first was filed by a man who claimed that the random drug tests that employees were required to take were a violation of privacy laws, but the suit was dropped when he was arrested by the DEA for trying to move drugs using his employer as a courier. Sighing at the stupidity of people, the PI shook his head and went to the second case filed by a female employee who had complained that she had been fired from the job because of her hair – specifically the length. XPRS had changed the requirements for hair length after her hair had become entangled in a conveyor system that resulted in one of their service lines being shut down for two hours when a rescue squad had to be called in to extricate her four foot long pony tail. "Good Lord…"

The next three lawsuits were over either lost or damaged deliveries. Even though reparations had been made before the suits were filed the plaintiffs had continued with the cases and all but one had lost. For such a big company, Matt was impressed that they didn't have more legal problems. He closed up the computer and went inside, washing out the cup before he told Chris that he was leaving for the ATF office on North Brand in Glendale.

The fifteen minute drive was uneventful and he thought about the trip to Houston and the reaction of CJ to being the new owner of the old Parsons ranch. Chuckling he thought back to the night before when he had shown her pictures of how it looked now after the tornado that had blown through the area while he had been there. The shocked expression on her face gave way to eventual laughter. Then she had thanked him…repeatedly, the thought of which made him smile even more.

At the reception desk, he was surprised to find that Mitchell had already left word for him to be issued a visitor's pass and directions to his office on the eighth floor. "Knock, knock." He tapped on the door facing receiving a smile from the agent.

"Come on in, man. Have a seat." Gunterson rolled back in his chair. "So have you had a chance to think about it?"

"Yep. Looked through the files you sent...had a good chuckle." Both men cracked up. "Kinda liked the poultry conspiracy deal, I gotta say. But I agree with you – I think both of those guys would have trouble finding their butts with both hands let alone making a bomb without blowing themselves up."

"And?"

"And I looked into XPRS – they seem to be pretty good folks to work for; most of the employees seem to be happy from what I can find. They're doing good on the stock market." He shrugged. "Have any of the other carriers had similar problems?"

"No." Watching as the PI chewed on the information he put his hands behind his head and leaned back.

"You said the St. Louis and El Paso bombs were pretty much identical in makeup and result."

"They were."

"The one yesterday was bigger."

"Uh huh."

"An escalation maybe? Our bomber started out small, just experimenting. Now he's moving up in scale a little bit."

"That's what I think...and it's got me worried. What will he do next?"

"I realize that there's some security at the delivery companies but let's face it – they can't check every single package that comes through there."

"It's a high volume business. XPRS has come a long way in a relatively short time. One other company does a higher volume than they do, but it isn't really a significant difference. They're closing in fast. Do you think it could be some of the competition?"

"I really don't think they would want to give any of the nut jobs out there more ideas than they already have...it could backfire on them."

"Hadn't thought of that one." The agent looked at the ceiling.

"The package yesterday..." The PI got up and began moving around the office. "...was it being loaded or unloaded?"

"It had just been unloaded...damn."

"If that had happened in flight..."

"Big time disaster."

"Uh huh."

"Could the lab tell what percentage the concentration of benzoyl peroxide was?"

"No...but in its pure state it wouldn't take much for an explosion."

"It can detonate without a trigger."

"Yep."

Houston began pacing, stopping after a minute. "Whoever this is..." He tapped on the corner of the desk. "...is good. They're very good. If they weren't it would most likely have blown up sooner. Have you checked with any of the producers that make products that contain it? I mean there's more than just the zit creams – there's hair dye, teeth whitening, work with resins...hell, they even use it in manufacturing flour."

"Flour? That one I didn't know about. Okay, that gives us a place to look for missing supplies. Good. I'll get started on that."

"I'll see you later."

"Where are you going?"

"To see my favorite lab tech – maybe she can give me some other ideas."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

"Uh oh...beware the cowboy bearing gifts..." CSI tech Bob Wisnewski saw Houston stepping off of the elevator carrying a box.

"You're just mad 'cause it ain't for you." The PI stuck his tongue out at him. "Where's my girl?"

A decidedly feminine voice came from behind him. "Nope, CJ's your girl, remember? You married her and broke my heart...had to get engaged to Vaughn." Cheryl Crawford gave him a big smile as he turned around. "By the way, your invitation should reach you today or tomorrow."

"A ha! Finally set the date, huh?" He went towards her.

"Yep, you're too late. So what's in the box?"

"Well..." He peeked under the lid. "Just got back from Texas yesterday...and Madre Rosa has been baking..."

"Ooooh!" She was fairly jumping up and down.

_"Las galletas nuez de la boda de mexicana." _Taking the top off with a flourish he grinned. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to keep Michael out of these?"

"How hard was it to keep you out of them?"

"Pretty hard once we ate all of the ones she made for us." He cracked up and as she reached for the box he raised it over her head. "There's a charge for these."

"What?"

"I need some information."

"On what?"

"Benzoyl peroxide – in its pure form."

"Nasty stuff – it likes to go boom."

"That I already knew. Do you know of any uses besides zits, flour, bleaching teeth, work with resins, and dying hair?"

She looked deflated and put a hand on her hip. "If you already knew all that..."

"'Cause I don't know if there's something I'm missing."

"Those are all that I know about." He lowered the box and she took a cookie. "Sooooo good."

"Enjoying that benzoyl peroxide?"

Cheryl looked down at the other half of the cookie, snatched the box out of his hand, and shrugged. Around a mouthful of cookie she spoke. "Don't care." Both cracked up. "Did you really come up here to ask me about that or just bring the cookies?"

"Both."

"Why in the world do you want to know about that?"

"I'm helping ATF with something."

"Uh oh...and it goes boom easy...not good."

"Nope. I just wanted to get your take on it...plus I had to get the cookies out of the truck."

"Well now I need to ask you for a favor."

"What's that?"

"Well, I heard that you sang at Chris and Murray's wedding..."

"Uh huh."

"Would you?"

"Would I what?" He pretended to look shocked.

"Sing at our wedding, you big goof."

"You're not having it anywhere near a dog kennel are you? Might set 'em to howling."

"Bull...I heard you were good – Michael said so."

"You believe everything he says?"

"Only 99.9% of it."

"I guess so then."

"Great. I'll have to have you audition, though." She gave him a big smile. "Just kidding. I really appreciate it. Who knew you were so talented?"

"What can I say? I'm just under appreciated." Rolling his eyes he turned. "Gotta get some work done."

"Thanks again." She watched as he threw his hand up as he stepped onto the elevator, before she swatted at Bob as he grabbed a couple of cookies from the box.

Houston got off the elevator and saw Michael with his back turned, his phone out showing pictures of his recent fishing trip in Texas to Gabby Giovanni and Richie Valdez. Sneaking up behind the lieutenant, Matt goosed him in the ribs causing a shriek which sent the entire squad room into a fit of laughter. "Lousy PI..." Michael straightened his tie. "What do you want?"

"What makes you think I want something?"

"Past history. Oh shut up, Valdez. Get to work." Hoyt pretended to be mad at the sergeant who was still laughing. Turning back towards his office he walked with the PI. "So what's going on?"

"I had a visitor at the ranch last night; Mitchell asked for help with the explosion yesterday."

"Uh oh..." He opened the door and went in, taking off his jacket before landing in the chair behind the desk. "And?"

"It wasn't the first. There were two others in the last couple of weeks: El Paso and St. Louis. But they're trying to keep it hush-hush."

"So what have you got?"

"All three contained benzoyl peroxide."

"That's the acne stuff isn't it?"

"Yep. It's some nasty stuff – likes to go boom without a detonator sometimes..." Walking over to the window he rested his hand on the ledge and looked out. "It had just been unloaded from one of the XPRS jets."

"If that had gone off when they were in flight...umm...so do they think it's terrorists?"

"Don't know."

"What about the senders or receivers?"

"The information was destroyed on all three packages." Matt watched as the cop sighed.

"How in the hell are you supposed to stop something like that?"

"Mitchell's looking into any of the manufacturers that use it who might be missing some. If we can find out where the idiot is getting it from we might be able to get him."

"Looks like the only way right now. Damn..." His phone rang. "Hoyt..." Rolling his eyes he wrote down an address. "Yeah, be right there." He grabbed his jacket. "Gotta go. Good luck with it."

"Think we're gonna need it." He left and went down the stairs to the parking garage, answering his phone as he unlocked the truck door. "Hey, Lil Mama."

"I heard you had a jealous husband after you." The laughter on the other end of the line was something he loved to hear.

"Yep – been a while. So Chris called you?"

"Uh huh..."

"Guess I better watch my p's and q's with Cheryl next." He gave a chuckle as he hit the speaker button.

"Why?"

"She said the invitation should be arriving...and she also asked me to sing at the ceremony."

"Hmmm...maybe you could retire from the PI business and become a wedding singer full time."

"Nooooo, don't think so."

"Have you learned anything else about the explosions?" She watched as Tomás played with Catey in the pool.

"Not really." He sighed. His time in Texas, even though he had ended up working a cold case for the Harris County Sheriff's Department, had been a nice break from the hustle and worry. This case had him plenty worried.

"If you need any help from me just call, baby. Love you."

"Love you, Babe. Talk to you later." He hung up, started the truck and then the thought that he didn't have the slightest idea where he was going – either in the truck or on the case – hit him. After a moment of consideration, he pulled out of the garage and went back toward his office. The answer was out there somewhere...he just needed to look in the right place. The short drive was spent going over what little they had so far. What didn't they have? First – a motive: why would somebody do it? There could be a myriad of answers to that question; a grudge, a perceived injustice, just for the hell of it...the list was pretty much infinite. Secondly – how? Benzoyl peroxide and a watch detonator...but the organic compound in the peroxide family was, in it's pure form, unstable. What he had said to Mitchell earlier about their bomber being smart could be true – or he could just be reckless as hell.

Getting out of the truck, Matt went up one floor to the lobby of the Houston Industries Building to have a talk with security about the change in the workings of his office. Walter Earhart, a long-time employee of the the company had recently been promoted to head of security and Matt went past the front desk after exchanging good mornings with a couple of the guards on duty and went down the hallway to the first door on the right. After knocking he was asked to enter and found the twenty eight year old sitting behind a desk looking through paperwork.

"Houston! Come on in, have a seat. What's going on?"

"Thought I'd come check up on you – see how you liked being the big boss."

"Huh – not really much of a change except for scheduling...and that's a pain." The face he made cracked the PI up. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I just wanted to let you know about a change for upstairs."

"Uh oh – good or bad?"

"Well, I guess it's good: Chris is about to start maternity leave."

"Will you bring in another secretary?"

Shaking his head, Matt propped an ankle on his knee. "No...I'm really not here that much anymore. Y'all are already screening folks that want to go up there and as long as I lock it up tight there shouldn't be any problems. Just wanted to give you a heads up."

"Gonna be a lot of babies around here this fall. How's CJ doing?"

The smile that spread across Matt's face was huge. "She's great – fussing about the weight of course but I think she looks great. Well..." He got to his feet and extended his hand. "Guess I better try to get some work done. Congratulations on the promotion, bud."

"Thanks. Let me know if you need anything." The guard watched as Matt left, thinking back to when he had first been hired. Houston had seemed like James Bond to him back then.

Back upstairs, Matt hit the coffee pot and then went and pulled up BABY the computer. What hadn't he looked at? "The Faltzer brothers." He began with the elder, Alan, born in Boston to working class parents. A standout athlete, he had garnered scholarships to a private high school in the city and then at Fisher College where he earned a Bachelor's degree in Accounting. The money he had saved on tuition had gone toward starting XPRS. After a long sip, Matt looked into the man's personal life. Alan had married the former Madeline Brook Scott two years after starting the company and they were now the parents of four children. All in all it looked like the American dream; no scandals, nothing.

Typing in Edwin Faltzer didn't get him anything drastically different. A year younger, Edwin had graduated early from high school and had also attended Fisher but on an academic scholarship and graduated with a Bachelor's in Computer Information Systems the same year as his brother. The younger brother was single but once again there was no trouble to be seen.

Refilling the coffee cup, the PI leaned on the bar and thought. The Faltzer boys had gone at things the right way: they had worked hard, had a plan, and were making it pay off. One brother was the number cruncher and the other the computer whiz who most likely specialized in logistics. From what he had read there was no animosity between the two and no reason why one would turn on the other or the company.

Now where to go? He went back to BABY and began looking into the competitors of XPRS. Fortress Deliveries was the number one delivery company out there, but not by much. The younger generation seemed determined to topple them from the throne and from the looks of it there wouldn't be a long wait. Matt estimated that in the next year XPRS would have the number one spot. He looked up the NYSE numbers on Fortress: they had been declining for the last eight months due to corporate infighting, a grab for control by opposing members who had failed to secure enough votes before attempting the coup, and a deluge of complaints from customers and employees alike. Unless someone knowledgeable stepped up, they were doomed. Still, the thought of corporate sabotage against their top competitor just didn't seem likely but it was something worth keeping in mind.

Next on the list was Walderson Worldwide, in business for over a hundred years and had more than flecks of gray around the edges. Unfortunate to have had dealings with them in the past, Houston knew that a lack of interest on the part of the third generation of owners had led to insufficient capital investments in the company that threw it far behind the other delivery companies starting in the late eighties. Rumor was that the CEO, a thirty-something at the time, was more interested in clubs, coconuts, and cocaine in Miami than taking care of the business that his grandfather had started. There was finally a hostile takeover by other members of the board in the mid-nineties who had banded together to save it and by the numbers he was seeing they might yet be able to return to their glory days with continued improvement. The disgraced former CEO was now doing spots on reality shows for a living – and failing at that miserably as well.

Bruendorfer was a name the PI was familiar with: it had started out as a trucking company out of Austin, Texas and eventually expanded into the major delivery market. Although they weren't number one, the owner was in his nineties with practically no one to leave the company to when he passed and it was only a matter of time before he died and it did, too. All in all though he thought, leaning back and finishing off the coffee, not bad for a truck driver who had lost a leg in World War II and had started out with a pickup truck and just enough money for gas and oil. When he was gone it would be a sad day for the state of Texas.

Looking at his watch he decided that since it was Chris' last day for a while he would take her – and Murray if he was able – out to lunch to celebrate.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

"Well Jasper, let's take another stab at it." Houston recoiled the rope in his hand as Bo herded the calf back into the chute while Lamar worked the gate. "We can do this, boy." He gave the stallion's neck a pat as they went back to the open chute.

"I'm pretty sure he can – but you I ain't so sure about." Bo Harper chuckled as Matt shook his head. "It's been a while since you've done rodeo, Houston...a few years...you're older."

"You're prospects of gettin' older are startin' to diminish, Bo." The younger cowboy gave his ranch hand an evil smile.

"You ready?" Lamar stood at the controls of the chute where the calf would emerge, and saw the confident nod that Matt gave him as he leaned forward in the saddle, a pigging string in his teeth. After waiting a few seconds the old cowboy released the calf and Matt and Jasper charged out after him, the cowboy making three swings with the rope and releasing it catching the calf on the right side of his head and cleanly encircling it. Jasper seemed to understand now that his part was to stop and pull backward on the rope causing the calf to jerk backward as his owner dismounted on the right side, ran to the calf flipping it onto its left side and with the pigging string, tying both of the calf's back feet and it's right front together.

"I'll be dipped." Lamar let out a whoop as did the other two.

"Hah haaaah! I knew you would get it, Jasper. Good boy...good boy." Houston lavished praise on the horse that had only been trained for riding a few months earlier. "Alright Bo – pay up." Releasing the calf, he recoiled the rope as the ranch hand shook his head.

"I can't believe it only took forty five dern minutes for that horse to figger it out."

"He's a helluva lot smarter than you are, that's for sure." Lamar leaned against the fence as the calf was released back into another pen.

"How's it going down here?" CJ had walked down to the pen along with Tomás, Catey, and Sheila.

"Real good." Matt had a big smile on his face as he got back on the horse. "Let's show 'em, boy." They trotted back to the chute.

Once again, Lamar released another calf and the team of Matt and Jasper successfully roped him. "Way to go, Cowboy!" CJ knew he had missed rodeo events and was glad to see that he had decided to give it another try – at least with roping. The thought of him ever riding bulls or broncs again was something that she would be dead set against if he brought up the subject.

"How in the world do you do that?" Sheila had only seen the rodeo on TV a few times and had a hissy fit when CJ had showed her some old DVD's of Matt back in his younger days with the bulls and broncs.

"Teamwork...and I've got a damn good partner." The smile that covered Matt's face was contagious. As Catey Rose watched in surprisingly quiet fascination the process was repeated once again, this time even quicker as the horse now fully understood his part.

"Daddy?"

"Yes ma'am?" Matt recoiled the rope.

"I do?"

"No ma'am – you're a little too short just yet." He walked over where Catey was standing on the white wooden fence with her nanny holding onto her. Giving her a kiss he saw the disappointed look on her face. "Tell ya what, Lady Bug..." He held his left hand just below his hip. "When you get about this tall I'll let you give it a try...but just the roping part. Okay?" She gave him a sigh that sounded exactly like her mother when she was getting perturbed with her daddy. "Promise."

"'kay." She leaned forward for another kiss and watched intently as he went back to Jasper and practiced for another hour, missing only twice in that time.

"Alright boys, I reckon we've worn these little fellas out enough for one evenin'." Riding up next to the fence, he took Catey up on the saddle in front of him, and took her for a ride around the pen a few times.

"Hey Pop?" Tomás spoke up.

"Yes sir?"

"Think you could teach me how to do that?" The usually quiet boy had been learning how to ride since he was first brought to the ranch and now spent as much time as possible with the horses.

"Don't see why not. It's best to start on the ground though." He gave the boy a smile. After being homeless on the street for a few years, he had bounced back quickly, his grades at the private school near San Francisco showing all the hard work he put into them. "You know, maybe Miss Sheila oughta learn – if there's gonna be two more boys runnin' around here..." He let the rest of the sentence go unsaid.

"That might not be a bad idea considering who their daddy is." The nurse gave a big laugh. "At least you're not trying to ride a cow."

"You mean a bull."

"Whatever – at least you're on a horse."

"I am right now..." He cut his eyes over at CJ, the look on her face showing her disapproval at even the thought of something more dangerous.

Lamar had caught the look that passed between the two of them. "Better hold your tongue...I've seen that look before from a coupla my ex-wives; you may be sleepin' out in the barn tonight."

Although he laughed, Matt exchanged another look with CJ who still wasn't laughing as he brought their daughter back over to the fence. "Worried about something, Lil Mama?"

"You know exactly what I'm worried about." She watched as he looked away for a minute then back at her and shifted in the saddle. "I think those days are best left in the past."

"You do, huh?"

"I do." Everyone had gotten quiet. The pair didn't argue too often and when they did it was best not to interrupt.

Leaning down he kissed her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Yes ma'am." Sitting back upright he turned the stallion and went through the gate that Bo opened and to the barn to put away the saddle and tack. He was joined by Tomás who began helping him. "So are you really thinking about it – bulls?"

Matt stayed quiet for a minute. "I was..." Watching as CJ went up the hill toward the house he continued. "But I really don't think it would be fair to CJ – or y'all either."

"It's pretty dangerous. I've seen where you used to do that." The teen shook his head.

"Yeah, but..." He sighed and stepped back, sitting on a bale of hay as the boy took over the care for the horse. "It's a...guess the best word for it would be a rush. Almost a drug in a way. It's also addictive like a drug." Thinking back to when he was a teen and young man on the circuit and of several people he had known who had been married and competing, he realized that over half of them had marital problems due in part to the sport that they loved as well as the time and energy it took to participate. "She's right. Those days are in the past. I've got too much here to wager on eight seconds."

Later on after he had given Catey a bath and read her favorite book to her, tucking her in for the night with CJ looking on, she took him by the hand and they went out to one of the lounge chairs by the pool and snuggled up together, something they had done a lot before Catey and Tomás had come into their lives. "Hon, I want to say something." She had her head resting on his chest and raised it to look at him. "I understand why you want to ride bulls..." He started shaking his head looking away. "Look at me..." Matt looked back down at her. "It's exciting; there's a thrill there that very few people ever get to experience. You've felt it – and you also know what the consequences can be from it."

"I'm not going to do it, CJ. There's more consequences than just getting hurt. I've seen it rip a marriage apart – more than one." He leaned his head back and looked up at the stars. "As long as it took for me to get up the nerve to let you know I loved you, you would think that I would have better sense than to even imagine it. I'm sorry."

"We've all got our dreams, hon."

"Yeah, but this one – you, me, and the kids – is the one that I need to be concentrating on – not going back to bulls." He turned her face up to his, kissing her, as Sheila and Tomás looked on from the kitchen window.

"Phew..." The nanny and boy exchanged a look and a laugh. "I thought that was gonna get ugly."

"No, he knows what's important these days." Smiling, he turned and went back to his room to work on the surprise for his dad.

Matt stood outside drinking coffee the next morning as he waited on Tilly, his mind going back to the problem that Mitchell Gunterson had brought to him. He had run out of ideas and the only thing he could do now was wait; either the bomber would strike again or not. Unless they could find out where he was getting his supply there wasn't much else he or the ATF could do. Arms wrapped around him from the back and he felt a jolt come from one of the twins that CJ was carrying. "What's the big idea of puttin' one of our boys up to kickin' me in the butt? I said I was sorry last night."

"That was his idea – which ever one it was." He reached back for her and the pair kissed as Tilly concluded her business and ran back, making a couple of circles around them just as she did every morning.

"Well Tilly's made her victory lap so I guess we can go eat now." They walked back into the kitchen hand in hand and sat down to breakfast. Matt was halfway through a plate of bacon and eggs when his phone rang. "Hey, Mitch..." He stopped. "Damn. Where is it exactly?" Scrambling up from his chair he gave CJ a quick kiss. "See ya there." Hanging up he pulled out his keys. "Love you, Babe." In a second he was out the door running to the truck.

"That isn't good." Sheila wiped Catey's chin.

"No...it isn't. And I've got a real bad feeling what it is." She went into the den and hit the remote turning on the TV and could hear when he hit the siren on the truck. The news anchor was reporting on a plane that had crashed just beyond the breakwall at Marina Del Rey. She knew without a doubt that's where he was headed. Sheila came in with Catey Rose as Tomás stumbled into the den, still half asleep. He had spent several hours the night before on the painting he was doing for his dad.

"Where's Pop?" He looked at the screen. "Uh oh..."

CJ turned up the volume as the anchor told more about the crash. "According to several eyewitness reports the jet belonged to XPRS. Just yesterday there was a fire at their terminal at LAX and many are speculating that the two incidents may be related. Reporter Tamara Placer is on her way to the scene. We'll bring you updates as we have them."

Matt made the trip down Saddle Peak Road as Gunterson called him back. They would meet an LAPD helicopter at the south end of Topanga Canyon Road. Thanks to the siren and lights the trip was relatively quick and he was there before the ATF agent, grabbing his camera and fire investigation clip board. Within a couple of minutes Mitchell arrived and they took off headed south toward the breakwall. The PI had been listening to the chatter on the police radio that was now installed in his truck. It didn't sound like there was much hope of finding the pilot or co-pilot alive. The Coast Guard was already on the scene and divers were in the water searching both for the crew and the in-flight recorder.

Flying out to the scene neither man had much to say; both were upset that they hadn't been able to come up with a suspect and now the possible deaths of the crew members weighed heavily on them. A message came across that the co-pilot had been found alive but badly injured. His first words to his rescuers were that there had been an explosion somewhere in the cargo. The plane had split into two pieces before slamming into the water where the back end broke in two again. Although the containers in the plane had ignited as had the jet fuel, it didn't burn for very long due to the low amount of fuel left in the plane's tanks. "Do we know where the flight originated?" Houston looked at the agent.

"Kansas City." As they circled overhead they could see crews trying to recover packages that were floating out to sea and those slipping beneath the surface. "NTSB is all over this. The boss called me on my way down to meet you. Just so you know – they aren't always the easiest to work with – they suspect everybody."

"So it'll be like old home week. Hmph." He watched for another minute, an idea trying to make its way into his mind. "Manifests..."

"Manifests?"

"Can the folks working on St. Louis and El Paso compare the packages recovered and readable to the manifests – that would cut down on the number that we would have to look into."

"Son of a..." Gunterson shook his head. "Nothing like overlooking the obvious."

"Don't feel bad – I did, too. Let's get out of here – we aren't doing anything but making it harder for the folks down there."

"Yeah, Karl – take us back, would ya?" The pilot nodded and turned back to the north.

"Karl – can I pick your brain on the trip back?"

"I guess – but it's early yet; I'm not sure it's ripe." As they flew back along the coast, Matt asked question after question about the helicopter they were in and by the time they landed he had narrowed down his decision on a new chopper considerably.

"Meet you at your office?" Mitchell pulled out his keys, having to yell to be heard above the rotors.

"As long as you can get the information we need on those packages." Matt nodded. "I'll make the coffee." On the way into the office, he called CJ to let her know that he might need some help when they received the list from ATF.

"Not a problem – just let me know." After their usual goodbyes, she hung up thinking about all the changes that he had been through in the last several years and thought she understood why he had been tempted to resume his old pastime.

As he went up in the elevator the PI was thinking about the manifests and the checking that would have to be done and had to stop himself from automatically saying good morning to Chris – who was now off on maternity leave. As he unlocked the main door to the inner office and started making coffee he continued over what they had – which considering what had been happening was crucial to the case.

While the coffee brewed he pulled up BABY and found the news feed for the crash. Naturally no other details were available and the reporters were just repeating what they had been given so far. Mitchell came through the doors holding a paper bag. "Don't know about you but I didn't get breakfast."

"Only about half." He poured a cup for the agent and they sat down on the couch.

"I put a call through to Kansas City..." Gunterson took a big bite. "We were a little late on the uptake – somebody there already thought of it. It should be in my inbox in just a few minutes."

"'Kay." The PI dug around in the bag. "You didn't get mustard?"

"No...why would I do that?"

"'Cause sausage biscuits without mustard is just plain uncivilized." Going back to the mini-fridge behind the bar he returned with a bottle and loaded up a biscuit, laughing as the agent followed suit and gave a surprised grunt.

"Mmph...good."

"Wanna check your mail?" Matt motioned to the keyboard.

"Alright..." Wiping off his fingers Mitchell pulled up his account. "Let's see here...from the shipment that went to El Paso...there were four that couldn't be accounted for: two were from businesses and two were private parties."

"What kind of businesses?"

"Oasis Candles and Dr. Ben Wilfred, DDS."

"A dentist...tooth whitening..." They exchanged a look and Matt took over the keyboard. "I can't find anything on a Dr. Ben Willfred in Kansas City...wait a minute...nope – there isn't one for Kansas or Missouri. Was it picked up at an office or dropped off at one of the service centers?"

Mitchell went back to the information he had. "It was dropped off – paid for in cash."

"Okay, we might be on to something. What about the St. Louis package?" He watched as his friend opened the email from an agent in St. Louis.

"It was also dropped off and paid for in cash."

"What about the manifest?"

"There wasn't a dentist...but there was a beauty supply business..." At the same time they both spoke.

"Hair dye."

"I'll see if they have any surveillance from the times the packages were received at XPRS." He pulled out his phone and began dialing the call to two different agents taking a few minutes. Matt had already emptied his coffee cup and refilled it along with Gunterson's by the time he hung up. "They're gonna check on it." The agent sat back and nodded. "You know – sometimes a paper trail can be a good thing."

"If we can get surveillance to go with it...without it..." Matt shrugged and took over the keyboard again looking up the name of the beauty supply. "No such thing in Kansas or Missouri. But I believe we're definitely on to something."

Gunterson's phone rang again. "Yes sir?" He pressed the speaker button. "Could you repeat that please?"

"I said we've received word from XPRS – the bomber has just made a demand for $500,000 dollars."

"How was it received?"

"Through one of the company's letter pouches."

"Naturally. I've got you on speaker with Houston."

"That's fine. Mr. Houston, I'm Supervisory Agent Dwayne Harrelson. Mitchell told me about your help – we appreciate it."

"I'm afraid I haven't been much help just yet. What are the bomber's terms?"

"The only thing specific was the five hundred grand – or the next time it will be detonated over a major metropolitan area."

"Great...well, there's always bugging the drop but if it's discovered..." Mitchell looked over at Matt.

"I might be able to help you with that." The PI gave a grin.

"BugBytes?" Harrelson had heard enough about Matt to know that he was part of the brains behind the high tech surveillance equipment.

"Yes sir, and we've got something that hasn't hit the market just yet that might be just what's needed."

"I'll talk to the boss and get back in contact."

"Hang on a minute – did the demand originate in Kansas City as well?"

"It did." The supervisory agent waited.

"I think I feel a trip to Missouri, pard – how 'bout you?"

"That would be up to SSA Harrelson."

"I'll run it up the flagpole and get back to you two. Thanks." He was gone and Matt took another swallow of coffee as he pulled out his phone.

"Hey Lil Mama – just wanted to give you a head's up – I may be taking off for Kansas City in a little bit."

"Okay, just...well the usual I guess: be careful. Are you with Mitchell?"

"I'm here."

"Keep him out of trouble."

"You don't ask for the impossible do you?" All three cracked up.

"I'll call you as soon as I know something, Babe. Love you."

"Love you, too. 'Bye."


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5**

Shortly after hanging up with Harrelson, Mitchell received the call back and go ahead, and he and Matt made a trip first to the headquarters of BugBytes and Mosey Games, the two collaborations that he and computer guru Derwin Dunlap shared. The ground floor lobby was divided: on the left was BugBytes and on the right Mosey Games. The ATF agent found himself drawn to the artwork that was on the Mosey side of the lobby until the PI whistled at him and took him up in the private elevator to the Research and Development Department on the fifth floor. "I can't believe you do all this stuff."

"I don't do _all _of it...a lot of it is just ideas that I have and Derwin and his crew here are smart enough to make some of them work."

"But how in the world did you get into the gaming?"

"I have really weird dreams sometimes." Matt chuckled as he stepped off the elevator. "There he is."

"Houston – Sherry just gave me your message." Dunlap looked slightly concerned at the stranger that was with the PI.

"Derwin Dunlap – meet ATF Agent Mitchell Gunterson." The two shook. "You should feel honored – I've never brought anybody up here before – but since we're kind of in a bind on time..." He looked back to Dunlap.

"Right. It's in here." They went through a pair of heavy doors into a lab. "Now...you do understand that this is experimental, Agent Gunterson?"

"I do...and please – call me Mitchell."

"Derwin – he's ATF...if we can't trust him...well we're just screwed anyway. Besides, I know how to track him down if he opens his mouth about anything." The last was said with Houston's voice taking a trip down a couple of levels and a serious look aimed at the agent who swallowed nervously and nodded.

"Mr. Dunlap, we really appreciate the help. We wouldn't be here if it wasn't absolutely necessary."

"Houston, what exactly is going on?" The computer whiz leaned against one of the counters while Matt explained their predicament. "Oh...sorry. I wasn't trying to be a jerk. It's just..."

"Things in this business are pretty cut throat, Mitchell."

"I can understand why. Houston will be the only one working with the...whatever it is he's gonna use."

"That's another good question – we still haven't come up with a good name for it."

"Maybe one will present itself shortly." Matt gave a nod as he took a small plastic case from Derwin.

"Here's the rest of the installation that you'll need for it." Dunlap handed over a flash drive. "And while I've got you here – we're scheduled for a trip to Washington in about a month – don't forget."

"Okay...if you get the chance would you call and let CJ know for me?"

"Not a problem. How is she?"

"Great...and big...but not great big." The PI laughed. "I'll get it back quick as I can, bud."

"And have you been working on the uh...the Washington deal?"

"I have." Matt and Derwin had been asked to put together a training simulator for combat situations by the Defense Department.

"Okay...well, good luck."

"Thanks again." Mitchell shook Dunlap's hand and he and Matt left, the cowboy putting the flash drive and case in his shirt pocket and buttoning it up.

The trip to the airport took a little time and when the pair finally settled down into the cockpit of the G-550, they both heaved a sigh of relief. After receiving clearance for takeoff the jet smoothly left the runway and once he had made it to his assigned altitude and heading, getting some distance put between themselves and the other air traffic, the PI hit the auto pilot and stood up to stretch. "Gotta go hit the john – don't run over anything." He laughed at the panicked look on the agent's face. "It's just a joke."

"I don't like it."

"Spoilsport." After a couple of minutes he was back along with a couple of Fizzy Pops and they kicked back for the rest of the almost three hour trip.

"So what is this thing exactly?"

"It's a tracking device – not really any different than the other stuff that we've got out on the market..." He opened the case and removed what almost looked like a BB to the agent.

"You're kidding...that thing...how are we gonna keep from losing it?"

"It's got this nifty little feature...it's a tracking device." Matt laughed.

"But if it doesn't work..."

"Then we may be out some money...me more so than you. Not to mention Derwin might go ballistic."

"So you're really sticking your neck out over this."

"Somebody has to – we've got to get this guy." They were quiet for a minute. "I almost hate to ask: have you talked to Homeland Security?"

"Harrelson has..."

"Hope we get somebody good."

"You and me both...they're supposed to meet us at the airport."

A few minutes went by during which Matt installed the rest of the program on his laptop and then after a few minutes of finagling, put the information on an SD card that he then inserted into the phone. It would then allow him to check on the location of the device on his phone as well as the computer. Looking over it appeared that the agent was asleep so he began working on the combat simulator that Derwin had been talking about. Although he had spent some time on it, it wasn't nearly as much as he'd planned to have done at that point. Thinking to himself that he was going to have to buckle down when the XPRS case was done he looked up to check the radar again and noticed that the agent was in fact awake and watching him. "Thought you were catching some z's."

"Nope – just thinking." He watched as the PI nodded and began working the keyboard again. "So if I ask about the Washington deal that Derwin was talking about..."

"You can't say a word to anybody...and I mean anybody, okay?" Looking at Mitchell he knew without a doubt that he could trust him.

"_Nada."_

"It's a combat simulator."

"Oh...kind of like a gaming-type simulator."

"Sort of...only a lot more intense."

"So it's one of those Tag-a-Laser type things? Like it's the real deal."

"Uh huh."

"Derwin's lucky he's got you. No offense but he's definitely not combat ready."

"Not unless it involves "Alien Armory"." The PI chuckled. Looking back at the radar again he put the computer away. "'Bout time to get ready to land, bud."

The jet taxied to a stop in front of a hangar that belonged to the government and the two men stepped onto the tarmac, a big smile coming to both of their faces when they saw who was there to greet them. "Well this just keeps getting better and better...how ya doin', Chris?" Matt embraced the Homeland Security Agent.

"Boy you two sure get along better than you used to..." Mitchell shook the man's hand.

"What can I say – I had a conversion. I like the way he thinks." Agent Chris Oakley walked them to a black SUV that was parked nearby.

"Yeah, he's just a wuss when it comes to hot sauce." Matt laughed thinking back to a case they had worked together in Laredo about three months earlier. "How's the nose?"

"A lot better...but I don't think it helped my looks any." He explained to the ATF agent how his nose had been broken by a suspect on the case. "I heard what was going on and volunteered to help you guys – just to spare anybody else from having to deal with you."

"Well ain't you just so considerate?" Sliding into the front seat the PI heard his phone ring. "Yeah Babe?"

"Just wanted to check in on you."

"We just landed and you'll never believe who they've stuck us with here."

"Oh no..."

"Chris Oakley." He and the other two cracked up.

"Phew...you had me worried. Tell him I said hi...and hon, you be careful, hear me?"

"Yes ma'am. Love you."

"You, too. 'Bye." She hung up feeling a little better. Both of the men Matt was working with were good agents. It was a relief.

"So anything else happen while we were in the air?"

"Not that I know of...I'm taking you to the ATF Office on Grand. I gotta warn ya though..." He looked at Gunterson in the back seat. "...Some of your brother officers here don't have a real good attitude."

Once they arrived and were cleared through to the second floor they met with a representative of XPRS, Joshua Marquette, who would be handling the money for the company, as well as the other ATF and Homeland Security Agents who had been assigned plus two agents from the NTSB who were monitoring the situation.

Agent Rachel Olivera was the ATF agent who had been working the manifest leads. As she pushed a button on the laptop an image popped up on the flat screen. "This is the only image we have of the man who dropped off the El Paso package." Blurry and with bad color, the image did very little to help them. The man appeared to be in a suit and tie with a hat and sunglasses.

"Looks to be average size, weight..." Matt scrutinized the picture.

"According to our techs he's five feet eight inches tall and weighs about 160."

"So the average man on the street." Oakley and Gunterson exchanged a look.

"Has he set a deadline?" The PI shifted in his chair and popped his back, making both of his friends wince.

"We haven't had any further contact with him."

"Is the money here?"

"It is."

"Can I see what it's in?"

"Is that really necessary?" She gave him a scathing look that said he was asking too many questions for a civilian.

Mitchell spoke up. "Agent Olivera, Mr. Houston has gone out on a limb to get us the very latest in tracking devices – free of charge – to help us out."

"We are dealing with a large sum of money, Agent Gunterson."

"Not to me it's not." Matt waited as the two ATF agents stared at each other. "I'll be damned – I think I've seen this show before, Chris; wasn't this the one that was on in Laredo?"

"I believe you're right. Damn reruns." Some of the others in the room laughed.

Finally SSA Blake Montgomery spoke up. "Rachel, Mr. Houston has been vouched for by not only Homeland Security and ATF...he also has clearance for the FBI and DEA."

"Yeah – guess that means I like alphabet soup." A few more laughs were heard.

"I'll not be held responsible for it, sir."

"No one is asking you to..."

She nodded to the XPRS representative who put a blue and white boat bag up on the table. Matt reached for it and gave the exterior a good going over and nodded. "Did the bomber specify what kind of bag?"

"Not yet."

"Maybe he won't...this would be ideal." He pushed it back across the table.

Montgomery spoke up again. "Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we're in a holding pattern until we have further contact from the suspect. I suggest you stick close by." He got up and left the room as did a few others.

"Not really like we've got a whole hell of a lot of choice where to be is it?" Oakley let out a sigh. Olivera shot the three a dirty look and left the conference room accompanied by Marquette. "So how's CJ?"

Matt, smiling, pulled out his phone. "As of about a month ago we now have two kids – the adoption went through."

"Congrats, man...aww, she looks good. And that Catey is getting big. That's quite the family you got there."

"Yep." The PI put the phone back in his pocket.

"We've ordered up some ribs if you guys want to join us." One of the other ATF agents came over to the group.

"Sounds good." As they went to the kitchen area of the office, something kept nagging at Matt's mind as he sat down to the BBQ with all the trimmings and the fact that he was so uncharacteristically quiet had both Mitchell and Chris worried.

"You okay, man? You haven't even touched the hot sauce." Oakley pushed a bottle in front of the PI and he never even noticed.

"Houston?" Gunterson punched him in the arm.

"Huh?"

"Earth to Space Cadet Houston – you thinking about CJ or what?"

"No..." He took a bite of the ribs then and wiped his mouth, reaching for the hot sauce that he had just noticed.

"What gives?"

Quickly looking around to make sure that no one could overhear their conversation, Matt leaned forward as did the other two. "Does half a mil sound kinda small to y'all?"

"No...well, yeah...I guess it does when you look at how much the corporation is worth." Oakley and Gunterson exchanged a look. "What do you think?"

Taking another bite of ribs the PI chewed thoughtfully. "Don't know...something just feels off." He continued to eat adding hot sauce as he went and making the Homeland Security agent's eyes water just from watching. When they were done, the three went back to the conference room that was now empty, Houston pulling out the laptop. "Chris..." He pulled the tracking device out of his pocket and activated it handing the case over to the agent. "Why don't you take a little walk down the hallway and go for an elevator ride?"

"Okay..."

"Keep that in your shirt pocket and don't let anybody see it." Matt worked the keyboard. "I'll call you in a couple of minutes." Nodding, the agent walked out of the room as the PI leaned back in the chair, sipping on a cup of coffee, and looking out the window. "Mitchell, something is just off about this deal."

"So you said."

"You said the demand was in one of XPRS' mail pouches and was received at the Kansas City office...but who received it?"

"It was addressed to the Director of Kansas City Operations – uh..." He pulled out his notes. "Gary Harkleroad."

Matt began entering the name on the keyboard. "He's been with them for eight years...came over from Walderson Worldwide." Stopping for a minute he clicked over to the tracking program and hit a few keys, then looked at his phone nodding before chuckling as he dialed and hit the speaker button. It was answered after four rings, a distinctive echo in the background. "Feel better?"

"Jesus man – you would wait until I get in here..." The agent on the other end of the line laughed.

"Well when you wrap up the paperwork come on back, ya hear?"

"You're not right." Oakley hung up as the PI burst into laughter.

"Where was he?"

"In the john." Matt giggled again and went back to researching Harkleroad. "Let's see here...age 43, married, divorced, two kids, moved to KC from Miami when he got the job." A flurry of keystrokes later and he had pulled up financial records. "Hmmm..."

"Is that a good hmmm or a bad one?"

"He doesn't seem to have anything other than a checking account but up until three weeks ago he also had a savings account that had six digits. Odd for someone in his position but certainly not illegal."

The door to the room opened and Oakley came back in, handing the case back to the PI with a disgusted look on his face as Gunterson started laughing again. Pointing to the ATF agent he spoke. "Don't worry – he'll get you some time. So have we got anything else?"

"Not exactly." Matt told him about Gary Harkleroad then leaned back in the chair and began swiveling as he thought. "Maybe it's just me – but if the company that I worked for was being extorted and I was head of the office where bombs had been shipped from..." He got up and started pacing. "I believe I would be the one standing with that bag of money in my hand looking for a little payback instead of making a payout. But maybe that's just me." He returned to the table and began another search, both men looking at the screen from either side. "Let's see what we can find out about Joshua Marquette." His fingers flew across the keyboard. "Graduated with a Bachelor's in Business...a minor in Accounting from Florida Intercoastal University..." Pausing for a moment he squinted at the screen then pulled up another browser tab and typed in the name of the school... "Uh huh...ain't no such thing."

"How could he get hired?" Oakley continued reading.

"Good question. Maybe a little visit would rattle him?" The ATF agent scratched his head.

"Wait a damn minute." He went back to some research from the day before. "Friends, I believe Mr. Marquette is having an identity crisis." Tapping on the screen he showed both images. "With a little less brown hair dye and a mustache he's Gerald Walderson, Jr...son of the former CEO of Walderson Worldwide."


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER 6**

"He's who?" Blake Montgomery looked at the three men in dismay. Matt started to explain again. "Yeah I heard you, but how in the hell..." He leaned against the sink. "No wonder you wanted to meet me in the john. Damn."

"Look -who appointed Marquette/Walderson as the bag man?" Houston looked at the other three.

Montgomery spoke up. "I'm not sure. Olivera was the one who put most of the case together from this office but I would think that Harkleroad recommended him."

"Well, did she happen to look into these guys?" Someone tried to open the door and Matt pushed it closed, turning the deadbolt, a curse coming from the other side of the heavy door.

"Good question." The supervisory agent started toward the door.

"Hang on a minute...if we go after her we may not take down the whole operation – especially if she isn't actually involved."

"He's got a point." Gunterson leaned against one of the stalls.

"Maybe we oughta just let this thing play out." The PI looked at the group and then back at Montgomery. "I know any of y'all would hate to think you had a bad apple in the barrel...we need to give her a chance to prove she isn't." There was a general agreement. "And I think I've got a way to make sure that we can pull it off – but I'm gonna need some help."

Back upstairs, Montgomery called Olivera into his office while Mitchell and Chris took Marquette to another office and were giving him instructions on exactly what he should do when he delivered the money that had been secured in a drawer in Olivera's office. While both were gone, Houston picked the lock on the office door as well as the drawer and planted one of the BugBytes tracking devices and left before the agent returned. When Mitchell saw him getting coffee he knew that the job had been completed and returned Marquette to Olivera's office just as she entered it herself. It wasn't long before a courier arrived with more instructions that had been sent to the Kansas City office of XPRS and everyone gathered back in the conference room.

Montgomery read the instructions out loud. "The money will be placed in a backpack and dropped from the right hand side of the third hill of "The Panther" roller coaster at Fantasy World Theme Park. If anyone approaches or interferes with the pickup in any way, the bomb will be detonated over a major US city within one hour." Houston was watching the expression on both Olivera and Marquette's faces: he was the only one who looked worried. The supervisory special agent looked around the room. "Agent Olivera – a backpack is being brought up now. We'll need Mr. Marquette to transfer the money."

She nodded. "What about the tracking device?"

"Mr. Houston will take care of that before the money is loaded." Looking around the room he spoke again. "I don't need to tell you how sensitive this situation is...keep a sharp eye out there." Everyone left the room except for Montgomery, Houston, Marquette, and Olivera. Chris came back a minute later carrying the backpack. "Mr. Houston, if you'll take care of the tracking device."

"Sure." Matt picked it up and looked it over, finally deciding on an interior pocket where he cut a small hole and worked a tracking device inside. "That oughta do it." Sliding the bag across to Marquette, they watched as he nervously moved the money from the boat bag and stuffed the backpack. "Mr. Marquette, I don't believe you'll be in any danger at all; all you have to do is get on the ride and drop it over the side – no problem."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Unless you don't like roller coasters." He gave the man a smile.

"No, no...love them."

"Good thing."

After the transfer was complete they went down to the parking lot and loaded up, Houston retrieving a baseball cap from his gear bag and changing into a t-shirt with the logo of the Honolulu Manos baseball team on the front and a picture of the team's mascot – a shark – on the back. After donning a pair of sunglasses he joined another agent in a car and they headed out to the park to become "customers" on the ride.

The short trip across town took only fifteen minutes and as soon as he entered the park, the PI and another of the agents who was in civilian clothes as well made their way to a concession stand and eased their way over to the roller coaster. It wasn't long before they spotted Marquette in his suit and tie lining up for the ride and they got in line as well. As they took their seats on the coaster they saw him looking around, a panicked look on his face. Agent Otis Farmer was sitting next to Matt in the train car both men talking about other coasters they had been on. When the ride was started Farmer nodded at the PI as he indicated the earwig that he was wearing. "They just found Harkleroad at home...you were right."

"So now we just get to enjoy the ride, huh?" Houston gave a chuckle as the train lurched. The slow ascent to the top of the first hill lasted about a minute and from there the coaster reached a speed of near sixty miles per hour as it approached the third hill. Marquette dropped the backpack over the side and began craning his neck unsuccessfully trying to keep an eye on it; the gravitational forces of the ride prevented it and by the time the train stopped back in the station a couple of minutes later he was the first one off and dashing down the exit ramp, Houston and Fisher in pursuit of him. Reaching the line of hedges that concealed the backside of the ride he started over the fence and the two men hauled him back down.

"What're you doin'?" Houston had Marquette by the left arm and Fisher by the right. "You heard the instructions – you mess with 'em and they'll blow up another XPRS jet."

"But we've got to get the money back."

"Don't worry – we've got somebody on it." Farmer pulled him toward the exit and both of them began escorting him toward the front gate.

Sweating profusely, Marquette loosened his tie. "I've gotta make a stop." He entered a nearby restroom and while Fisher took up a post out front, Matt quickly circled around to the back catching the man climbing through a window.

"Goin' somewhere?"

"I've got to get the money back!" Jumping from the window sill he tried to make a run for it but was tackled by Matt who pulled out a pair of handcuffs and hooked him up.

"You can't do this!"

"Just did. C'mon – bend your knee...up ya go." Dragging him back around to the front they met back up with Fisher who was now waiting along with park security in a golf cart.

"Thought we might take a nice little ride out to the parking lot. Just remember to keep your hands inside the ride at all times." The agent almost made the comment without cracking up but wasn't quite able.

Back at the ATF office they gathered in the conference room again where SSA Montgomery reminded Marquette/Walderson of his rights amid his loud protests. "Mr. Walderson..." The man froze. "Yes, we know who you really are. We also have Mr. Harkleroad in custody and the device has been secured."

"I don't know what you're talking about. My name is Marquette."

"Your _assumed_ name is Marquette...your real name is Gerald Walderson, Jr. Your dad is the former CEO of Walderson Worldwide." The PI watched as he continued to shake his head. "Harkleroad already told us what happened, Gerald – and we've found his kids. It's all over."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Kinda put you in a bad spot when someone was giving the wrong instructions for the drop didn't it?" Houston grinned over his coffee cup. "Your real instructions were intercepted earlier before they made it upstairs here. We already suspected Harkleroad was part of it – just didn't know why until a couple of agents picked him up and he spilled the beans. He was supposed to be the one to pick up the money on the drop. If he got caught it would all fall on him, one of the jets would explode, and his kids would be killed when you got back to where you had them stashed. And just so you know...not that you'll ever be using it again – but your FleaBay account was really easy to get into – we found your watch purchases...you bought four of them: one was used on the El Paso package, one on St. Louis, and one on the jet that crashed outside of Marina del Rey. Not that you care of course, but I thought you might like to know that the co-pilot that was rescued died from his injuries a few hours ago."

"This is all wrong."

"Nope." Gunterson spoke up. "We just got your prints from where you broke into the warehouse of Locks of Color...that's where you stole the benzoyl peroxide. Do you have any idea how volatile that stuff is? You're lucky you didn't blow yourself up putting those bombs together. It's tricky to handle with training and in a lab."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Guess you can tell a lawyer all about it." Montgomery nodded to two of the agents who took Walderson out to be booked. "Houston, Gunterson told me you were good. So have you figured out why he did it?"

"Not really. I guess he just wanted to get back at his dad's former competition. Going from a private school in Miami to public school evidently didn't set too well with him."

"If his dad hadn't been more interested in clubbing and cocaine he wouldn't have had that problem." Oakley shook his head. "So if we already knew Walderson was guilty why did you put the tracking device in the money before he put it in the backpack?"

"Extra security. And I placed this one..." The PI pulled out one of the button-sized BugBytes devices from the hole in the backpack. "So if by chance he did manage to get to the money before we did he would remove it...and think that was the only one." After looking through the stacks of cash he finally found the one containing the BB-sized tracker that he had hidden while in Olivera's office.

The female agent had a strange look on her face. "When did that one get placed?"

"While you were in my office." Montgomery spoke up, holding up a hand to as she tried to speak again. "Your attitude toward Mr. Houston and the rest of us made us suspicious, Agent Olivera. Even though you were rude to him, Houston was willing to give you a chance to prove your innocence. You might want to thank him."

"Suspicious?!" She looked at her boss. "How...?"

"You were informed that Houston and Gunterson were on the way here...weren't you the least bit curious why a PI was being pulled into the investigation?"

"I..." She shook her head. "I just thought he was a nosy civilian who wormed his way into this. I've worked hard on this case, sir...having some civilian swooping in trying to take credit for it..."

"This civilian here was asked by Gunterson for help – and it isn't the first time he's helped ATF out. I'm sure it won't be the last either."

Standing and stretching, Matt reached his hand across the table to Olivera. "No hard feelings, Olivera; you're not the first to assume that I was being nosy." He gave her a big grin. "Now if y'all are done here, I really need to get back home. Don't like being too far away right now with twins on the way."

As he and Mitchell started down the hall and were waiting for the elevator with Chris Oakley, Olivera spoke to her boss. "When I was objecting to Houston looking at the bag he said that $500,000 wasn't a lot to him."

"It isn't."

"How?"

"He's worth about $6 billion now." Montgomery laughed as he walked out of the conference room and on down the hall to his office, leaving Olivera to stand with a shocked look on her face.

By the time Houston and Mitchell landed back in LA, it was nearly 9:00 PM and both were ready to call it a day. After saying their goodbyes, the PI drove to the ranch looking forward to a good night's sleep. As he came into the kitchen and reset the alarm he was met by Tilly. "How's it goin', girl?" Petting on the dog for a minute he got a drink and then wandered into the den where CJ was curled up in their recliner asleep as Sheila had her nose stuck in a book.

"I heard you went for a roller coaster ride." The nanny spoke quietly.

"I did. Wasn't very scary though." He walked over and picked up the notebook that CJ had on her lap and glanced down at it smiling. "She's already making plans."

"That's all she's talked about today." She watched as Matt sat down next to his wife and looked at what had been written down.

"You know...Marty was right. She could have done this when she was twelve years old...but Errol was too damn lazy and mean to do it at forty." Tapping his finger on the notebook he spoke quietly again. "A lot of what's here is exactly what she said back then. She knows what she's doing."

"You've sure made her happy."

"She's made me happier than she'll ever know - and more than I can ever tell her."


End file.
